


Second Chances

by LadyAaronBurr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Grimmauld Place, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 17:35:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12304170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAaronBurr/pseuds/LadyAaronBurr
Summary: Following his escape from Azkaban, Sirius is in hiding at Grimmauld Place. Things between him and Remus have changed, but you can never go back again... or can you?





	Second Chances

Sirius Black hated Grimmauld Place. Seriously.

Even though it was his ancestral home. For what that was worth. Being a Black did not mean very much to him, not after the way he’d been treated by them ever since he could remember. No, Regulus had always been the favored son in that family, and no bones were made about it. But a Black Sirius was and a Black he would always be. And now, ironically, he was trapped within these hated walls, because he was still a wanted man, and to venture forth from his hiding place could be disastrous for him. A fact which Albus Dumbledore constantly reminded him of. And which Severus Snape lorded over him, at the same time belittling him for his apparent lack of usefulness to the Order, while he himself was constantly risking his life for the cause.

Damnation, how he hated that man.

The only bright spots in his life were his occasional visits with Harry, when he was allowed to come there. His talks with his dear cousin Tonks—the only family member he cared about.

And Remus, of course—there was always Remus. Ever since the quiet werewolf had returned to the Order, and begun staying at Grimmauld Place. At the same time, Remus was both his joy and his sorrow.

He was happy to have Remus back in his life—gods, how he had missed him. All the wasted years that he spent in Azkaban, innocent but unable to prove it and never given the chance. Wondering how Remus was doing—was he thinking about him? Did he believe the terrible things they said Sirius had done? Not a day went by that Sirius did not console himself with the image of his beloved wolf's face, burned bright into his memory. It helped to keep him sane in a world gone mad.

But now Remus was back, and now he knew the truth—but still Sirius wondered if there would ever be a chance to tell him he still loved him, afraid of his former lover's rejection, and not being able to bear such a thing. So he kept silent, going about the house, from room to room when Moony was not around, like a lovesick schoolboy, drawing his lover's name with his finger in the dust he found, whispering it in the night when no one was near. Screaming out his name alone, in his bedroom, when the only surcease he could find for his eternal torment was in erotic dreams that fueled his acts of self-love, and he would remember the times they were together, and he would come for Remus once more. It got to the point where he automatically set silencing charms about his room at night, just so that no one else would hear his moans for his lover.

And then there were the nightmares—waking up in the middle of the night, tortured by the presence of the dementors of Azkaban. They were coming for him, they were taking him to places where they could better attempt to drain his spirit, suck the essence of his soul from him through the use of the dreaded Kiss. But he had always resisted, using his love for Remus as a mantra of protection, withdrawing deep inside himself with his beloved wolf, where none could follow. For twelve years he’d used this ruse, as well as becoming Padfoot when things got too bad, and he’d succeeded in not being driven insane.

But now Remus was driving him insane, in a totally different way, and he didn't know what to do about it.

So he took to drinking. He would send Kreacher out to the wine shops, and tell him what to bring back for him. The house elf disapproved, of course, as he disapproved of everything Sirius did. But he dared not disobey a direct order, as he belonged to Sirius now, as did everything in Grimmauld Place. Sirius would pull out the old photo albums, and gaze for hours on end at pictures of his wolf and himself, drinking himself into a stupor and stumbling off to his solitary room, cursing his mother soundly as he passed her shrewish portrait, and Kreacher as well, who would lurk about at odd points of his path, glaring at him on behalf of his dearly departed mistress.

One night he drank two bottles of cheap red wine, which was not his usual style, before returning to his room, trying not to make too much noise going up the stairs, because he knew Remus was around, and he didn't want his former lover to know he still carried a torch for him, nor to what lengths he went to douse the flame. He managed somehow to reach his room, forgetting about the wards, threw himself fully clothed onto the bed, and into a deeply troubled slumber.

Sometime in the depths of the night, the dream began. He was wandering the halls of Hogwarts, intent on reaching James and Lily somehow to warn them of impending danger, of the stupid thing which he’d done. But he couldn't seem to find his way, which was odd—both because he knew the school like the back of his hand, and secondly because he hadn't been a student there in some time—why was he there? The more he tried, the more tangled his path became, and disembodied heads seemed to pop up out of the woodwork at him. A sneering, sarcastic Snape: "You are useless, Black, and always have been. You deserve to be locked up forever, and the key thrown away!" A snivelling, weasely Peter Pettigrew: "You'll never find me, Sirius, the master will protect me and you'll die in Azkaban!" James and Lily with reproachful eyes: "We trusted you, Sirius, how could you do this to us?" And worst of all, the soulful eyes of his beloved Remus: "Sirius, you should have known, you should have known, you should have known..." His voice trailed Sirius through the dark maze he traversed, as he tried his best to reach his wolf, explain the truth to him. But just before he found him, he was snatched, not by hands but by cruel claws which grabbed at him, demanded him, tore him away, and he threw back his head and began to howl....

Sirius woke suddenly from this hellish nightmare, shaking and trembling, only to discover he was not alone. He tried to focus his still bleary eyes. The only light was the soft moonlight which managed to filter its way into his dark room. And then he felt arms around him, comforting arms, and a familiar soothing voice that shushed away his fears, and he suddenly knew who it was that was with him.

"Remy?" he whispered shakily.

"Yes, Sirius, it's me," the wolf replied. "It's all right, love, you're here with me, you're safe. Shh…"

"What the...?" Sirius swallowed hard, collecting his thoughts, which persisted in swirling about his head in confusing disarray. "How did you know... I mean...why....?" But the words came out disjointed.

"I heard your screams, and I came," was Remus' simple reply. "Same old nightmares, or new ones?"

"I don't know any more," Sirius admitted, relaxing in Remus' arms. "I meant to set the silencing charm, guess I forgot..." he muttered half to himself.

"Not surprised in your condition," Remus reproved him gently. "Not that I can't hear you anyway, Sirius. You should know better than that. You shouldn't drink like that, it's not good for you. But then I've told you that before, haven't I?" He laughed softly, running his fingers through Sirius' dark tangled curls which cried out to be brushed thoroughly. "You're not taking care of yourself, love, why is that?"

Sirius moved slowly away from Remus, although he would rather have stayed where he was, his head aching, and his heart racing a mile a minute. Remus had this effect on him at the best of times, but to be so close, so very close, and not be able to love him, was killing him. "It doesn't matter," he mumbled, shaking his head.

"Yes, it does," Remus persisted, drawing one pale hand across Sirius' cheek, feeling the unshaven stubble, the gauntness which he still wore and which time had not healed. "Is something wrong, Sirius? Please talk to me. I'm worried about you."

"Remus, go back to bed, I'm fine," he lied, turning away from him. "No need to worry."

Remus shook his tawny head, now liberally sprinkled with grey, but still fine looking he was. "Quit lying to me, Sirius, I know you better than that. And please look at me when I talk to you." He put out one slender hand, caught the other wizard beneath his chin, tilting his head back toward him. With his other hand, he grabbed at his wand, muttering a lumos spell, so that he could see Sirius' face better. "I'm not going until you do talk to me. So don't even think about lying anymore and tell me what’s troubling you, my friend." Deep in his heart, Remus thought he knew what was wrong with Sirius—the same thing that was wrong with himself when he lay alone in his own room, listening to his lover's anguished cries, and yearning to be with him. But he was afraid to say it first. Afraid to find out he was mistaken, for then he would have to leave this place, and that he couldn't bear to do. The thought of not seeing Sirius, even in this platonic way, was more than his loving heart could bear.

Sirius' dark eyes shone in the light from Remus' wand. He thought of all the things he wanted to say to Remus, all the words which had passed through his mind during the torturous twelve years in Azkaban, and ever since. All the emotions which had played about his heart and soul, and the feelings that lay trapped there, yearning to surface once more. Questions and answers. Hopes and dreams. So much time lost, wasted years for them both. But when he looked at him, all those thoughts went swirling away, and he did what his heart told him to do. He took a deep breath, his heart pounding so loudly that surely Remus could feel its audible vibrations, and he pulled Remus closed to him and placed a most passionate liplock on him. ' His wolf, his', his soul screamed out, and he could feel the response in Remus' lips as he began to kiss him back, and Remus' low growl of "Mine!"

The years melted away, and time stood still as these two former lovers came together once more — the wolf and the dog—in a heart-thudding, earth-shaking kiss that registered seismically on the scale of love at over 10 +. Their lips became fused in the heat of their kiss, and their arms seemed to naturally wind about one another. For just a moment, Remus pulled back, muttered a quick spell, and Sirius could sense a fresh taste of mint on his breath, replacing the previous taste of cheap wine, and he laughed to himself, as he quickly reclaimed Remus' lips once more.

Several minutes or several hours later, they stopped for a moment to breathe. "Gods, Remus," Sirius' breath was warm against the wolf's ear as he whispered. "Do you know how long I've waited to kiss you again?'

"As long as I have Sirius, just as long," Remus replied in a low throaty whisper. "Since the moment I walked back in this house and saw you again. Saw your beautiful face, heard your voice."

Sirius nibbled at Remus' ear, nipping at it affectionately. "I was afraid to say anything, afraid to presume. I'm not the same man you knew before, you know. And I'd hardly call myself beautiful.—"

Remus interrupted him with one finger pressed against his lover's lips. "Don't say that, Sirius, don't ever say that. You are just as beautiful to me as you were before, even more so. So don't ever say that again." And he swept Sirius back into his arms once more, blotting out anything either might have thought of saying.

Sirius trembled at Remus' touch, his desire for him building with every second. His kiss grew more demanding as he pressed his lover down onto the bed, rubbed his hardness against him, felt Remus' equally hard member in return. Remus' nimble fingers began to undress Sirius, starting with the buttons of his robe, but the impatient Sirius would have none of this. He drew his wand from his robes, and with one wave they were quickly naked.

Remus smiled into Sirius' kiss. "Some things never change, love, do they?"

Sirius whispered into Remus' ear, "Tell me if you want me to stop here. I won't press you, Remy. I know we're not the kids we once were, and if you have any reserva—" He never got a chance to finish his sentence, for Remus pressed his lips tightly against Sirius', rolling him over so that now the wolf was on top.

"Don't say a word," he growled, his voice a low-pitched sensuous rumble, "while I show you what I intend to do to tell the world that you are mine, and none other's." Having said this, he lowered his head to Sirius' neck and began to worry the tender skin with his teeth. Sirius knew exactly what was coming, and he quivered in anticipation.

Remus nipped at the skin, never breaking the surface with his teeth, and sucked the soft flesh into his mouth. He had always been careful in the past not to draw blood —he could never bear the thought of his beautiful Sirius becoming a creature such as he—and nothing had changed in that regard. He continued to lick and suck at the skin —his mark, as he referred to it, his mark of ownership—until it grew to be an angry red from the blood surging just beneath the surface. He let go with a satisfied growl. "There, I have marked you again, Sirius!"

"Now everyone will know that I am yours," Sirius whispered happily. He pulled Remus closer to him, his hand reaching for Remus' erection, stroking it, his hand sliding up and down the hard shaft. "I still love you, Remus, and I always will."

"I love you too, Sirius," came the loving response, before Remus seized his lover's lips in his own once more, his tongue lapping at Sirius' full lower lip, sucking it into his mouth, feasting on it. His hands roamed freely over Sirius' thin but still beautiful body—remapping that which he’d always known so well, from the time they were fifteen and had first discovered their love for one another. Since Sirius' capture and removal to the prison of Azkaban, he had been with no one else, for wolves mated for life—and right, wrong, or indifferent, Sirius was his mate. And although they’d been separated, and he’d been led to doubt him, now he doubted no more, and wanted nothing more than to be reunited with him, as they’d been before.

Sirius gripped his lover more tightly, fisting him as they melded their two mouths together. Remus moaned at his lover's touch, but this was not what he wanted, not right this minute. The wolf inside of him demanded more—needed more—from Sirius. He reached for Sirius' hand, moved it away from his erection, whispered hoarsely, "I want you, Sirius. I want to be inside of you again, to feel you, to touch you, to make love to you. I need you, now!"

Sirius responded to the demands in his lover's voice. This was what he was used to, for Remus had ever been the dominant one in their relationship, being an alpha male. Old times back again. "I want you inside of me, Remy, yes!" he moaned in return.

"Have any lube?" Remus asked as he moved his hands across his lover's body, stroking and caressing every inch as he worked his way down to his hard cock, grasping it firmly.

"No, I don't, love... haven't had a use for it..." Sirius shrugged, but Remus understood—Sirius had not been with anyone else either—and his amber eyes flared at the affirmation of his lover's fidelity.

"No problem." Remus used his wand, muttered, "Lubricous." He felt his fingers coated with the substance , and ran them lovingly across Sirius' entrance, causing his lover to shudder happily. He knew he should take it slow with him, it had been a long time. He settled himself between Sirius' legs, made himself comfortable, and gently inserted the tip of one finger, working to relax the outer rim of muscles, to not give pain. He watched Sirius' expression carefully, before moving the finger farther in.

Sirius moaned again. "More!" he urged his lover.

Cautiously Remus added a second finger, moving carefully to stretch and relax his lover's tight muscles. It was hard to proceed this slowly when normally by now he would have impaled himself inside of Sirius, but prudence dictated. After all, it had been fifteen years since they were last together, and no one in between for either of them. He didn't want to hurt him. Just make love to him.

Sirius wriggled impatiently, trying to get Remus to hurry. He was ever the impatient one. But Remus refused to hurry this time. "No, love, be patient," he counseled. "I am determined to do this the right way, no matter what you say." And when Sirius raised his face to Remus, he forestalled his next move, saying," And don't turn those puppydog eyes on me, they won't work on me this time, Sirius. I mean it!" But his tone was actually gentle as he spoke, and a loving smile played about his lips.

Sirius grinned in a chagrined manner and relaxed once again, as his lover stroked his cock lovingly with one hand, while inserting the third finger gently. He could sense that Sirius was better prepared now, and able to take him in. "Does that feel good to you, Sirius?" he asked, watching his lover's eyes to see what effect he was having on him.

"That feels divine," Sirius moaned. "Don't stop!"

"I don't intend to, now do I?" He moved his fingers around even more, eliciting further moans of pleasure from Sirius. Pushing deeper, he managed to reach his prostate. At the same time he gripped his erection firmly, massaging it.

"More, Remus, more!" Sirius moaned.

Remus stopped teasing his lover, realizing that he was ready now. He removed his fingers, reluctantly, never taking his eyes from his lover's handsome face. "Tell me how much you want me, Sirius!" he whispered hoarsely.

"I want you so badly right now, Remy, that I could scream!"

"That reminds me!" Remus reached for his wand, set his own silencing charms. "Don't need to be interrupted, love, do we? Especially not tonight."

"No, not tonight," Sirius agreed. "Quit talking, Remus!"

Remus wasted no time in further conversation. He covered his painfully hard erection with the use of his lubricant spell and thrust it into Sirius. Sirius screamed in pleasure. "Yes, Remus, yes!"

Gods, his lover felt so good. It had been so long. But even though they were both approaching forty, nothing had changed in that respect. He pulled out almost completely before slamming back into his lover, harder than he’d intended, but filled with fifteen years of suppressed passion.

Sirius involuntarily arched his back as Remus hit his prostate with each movement. Without thinking, he reached for his own cock, to relieve the hardness there, but Remus swatted his hand away with a growl. "Mine!" he insisted, wrapping his slender fingers about him and stroking him firmly, insistently. 

"Yes, yours," Sirius moaned in reply.

Harder and harder Remus thrust his pulsing cock into Sirius' tight channel, calculating each thrust to hit his lover's prostate, for which effort he was rewarded with Sirius' delirious screams of delight. He fisted his lover's cock as he moved into him, felt the precum which seeped from the tip, knew that his orgasm was soon to follow. It had been too long to look for stamina right now.

Sirius knew he wanted this moment to last longer, but Remus' touch on his erection was too much, and he felt the old familiar feeling—the one that started deep within his soul and rose in gathering waves of passion, running through his entire body, and erupting in a burst of seminal fluid which gushed over his lover's fingers in sticky streams.   
"Remussss!" he howled, with years of love denied in his voice now given an outlet through which to be heard.

Remus heard the love in Sirius' voice, and his control was not much better. That was enough to push him over the edge, and he came inside his lover, pouring into him, his cock pulsing as he spilled his seed in great orgasmic bursts. When he was spent, he collapsed softly onto his lover's body, trying to keep from pressing his full weight onto him, and nuzzled Sirius' neck affectionately. "Love you so much, Sirius," he murmured softly. "I've missed you so much, my love."

Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus, pulled him as close to him as he could, as if he would never let him go again. Which he wouldn't. Not if he could help it. It would take something utterly and completely beyond his control to cause him to leave him again. "I love you too, Remus," he whispered back.

They lay together, pressed together in the comfort of each other, in the darkness of the night. Remus rolled over onto his back, taking Sirius with him, throwing a leg over him protectively. He ran his fingers through the dark curls which he loved so much.

"First thing in the morning, when we get up, I think I know what we'll do… " he said.

"What's that, Remy?" Sirius asked languidly, enjoying the warmth of his lover's body against his.

"We, my love, are going to clean you up."

"Remy, you always were a smooth-talking wolf, you know that?" He lay his head down on Remus' chest, content at last, and drifted off to sleep. Remus wasn't far behind, and soon the only sounds that could be heard were the contented breathing of the two lovers, reunited at last.


End file.
